The Magic of Death
by marrymepeter
Summary: When Illysa's new magic turns against her, what will she do?
1. Christmas

Illysa stood on a stool, reaching to the top of the evergreen tree as high as she could reach. The bottom was full of bright bulbs and snowmen ornaments, but ornaments on the top were a little scarce.

"Oh, phooey!" she cried as she gave up in frustration. "This is stupid."

Rising off the stool, she floated up to the top of the tree and placed a snowflake on one of the boughs. She turned as she heard a gasp from her mother.

"What? You know that I can fly, Mom," Illysa sighed, slightly annoyed.

"I know, honey, I just, well, I just can't get used to it as quickly as you do, I suppose." Mrs. Miller gave her daughter an apologetic smile, handing her an ornament to place on the tall evergreen.

Slowly descending, Illysa took her mother's outstretched hand and gracefully landed on the floor.

"Mother," she started to ask slowly, "do you think - well, that is - do you suppose, um -"

"What is it dear?" Michelle put her hands on Illysa's shoulders, and turned her daughter's face toward her's.

"I was just hoping that - well, that Peter would come for Christmas." Illysa finally finished her sentence, blushing a deep red.

"Oh, I see," said her mother, smiling. Becoming more serious, Michelle hugged her daughter, and said, "I'm sure Peter will come. You invited him yourself, didn't you?" She playfully punched Illysa on the arm, then went back to decorating the tree.

Illysa looked out the window, snowflakes dancing slowly on the wind. Yes, she had invited him herself. That was true. Yet that did not guarantee a visit. Sighing, she remembered when Peter left for Neverland three months before.

* * *

"You won't forget me, will you, Illysa?" Peter gazed into her eyes, the green deepening as he came closer, his breath warming her face.

"Me, forget you? Never." Illysa had sworn, and she had kept her promise. Before Peter left, she had asked him one favor.

"Please, come for Christmas."

Peter looked confused. "What's Christmas?"

Illysa was surprised. "You don't know what Christmas is?! Well, Christmas is wonderful. You-" she paused. "You know, come back in three months. Then I'll let you know what Christmas is." She smiled at Peter, and the boy knew he had been manipulated into coming back to Illysa's home. He smiled at her craftiness, then flew away. Not that coming back was a terribly bad idea. Illysa gave him... feelings. Feelings he didn't know or understand. Not even Wendy gave him the feelings he felt for Illysa. He shook his head, called to Tinker Bell, and left for Neverland.

* * *

Staring out at the brilliantly clear sky, twinkling with a million brilliantly clear stars, Illysa sighed. She began to get a strange feeling inside, really strange, actually. It caused this weird bubbling type of sensation inside her gut, like her hydrochloric acid was boiling. She had never felt this way before... like she had to... to sing?

"Great, this isn't a Disney movie. Illysa pull yourself together. I'm - I'm... stop! I'm wishing - ugh - ok, ok, I'll sing."

She looked behind her, shut her bedroom door, and opened her mouth.

_I'm wishing on a star  
And trying to believe  
That even though it's far  
He'll find me Christmas Eve.  
_

_I know that Peter's busy,  
'Cause he's never come around; I think of him,  
When Christmas comes to town_

* * *

A boy sat in a tree, handling a small twig, using an arrowhead to whittle away at it.

"What do you think, Tink?" he asked, holding up the twig.

_It looks like a... a - um what is it?_

"Not the twig, Tink. What do you think about taking a trip to see Illysa? For Christmas." Peter paused. That word felt weird on his tongue. _Christmas. _What was this time or thing that had Illysa so excited?

Tink pouted. She didn't want to think about Peter spending time with that girl, or any girl for that matter, excluding herself, of course.

_Don't you think she lives rather far? _Tink smiled slyly.

"No farther than Wendy," Peter pointed out.

_Yes, but Wendy lives terribly far as we-_

"Tink, don't you want to go see Illysa?" Peter eyed her closely. "She saved your life, after all."

How could Tink forget! _Of course, _she chimed, _Let's go._

* * *

Illysa opened her bedroom window, the cold air ruffling her hair slightly as a breeze passed by. The urging was coming on strong again, and she didn't dare let it sit for too long, else she might vomit.

_When Tink's bells ring_

_I listen all around_

_The herald angels_ _sing _

(Where did _that_ come from? Illysa wondered)

_I never hear a sound_

* * *

"Come on Tink!" Peter cried, "We have to hurry!"

_I'm coming... I'm coming... _Tink huffed.

He flew faster than he had ever dared to before, not wanting to risk missing one of the most important days of his life, spending Christmas (who knows what that is) with Illysa.

He flew up to the window he had broken a few months before. Illysa was sitting on her bed, staring at a book. Peter knocked on the window, waiting for recognition

* * *

Illysa looked up, and screamed.

"Peter!" She ran to the window and opened it wide.

Peter floated in, and gasped when Illysa enveloped him into a warm hug.

"So Illysa, what _is _Christmas?" he asked, looking around in curiosity.

Illysa smiled widely. "Let me show you. "

_Illysa: The best time of the year, when every one comes home, There's so much Christmas cheer I'll never feel alone_

She led him down the stairs and ignored her parents stares as she continued.

_Illysa: Putting up the Christmas tree with friends who come around; there's so much fun when Christmas comes to town._

_Presents for the children, dressed in red and green..._

_Peter: All the things I've heard about, but never really seen!_

_Both: No one will be sleeping on the night of Christmas Eve, hoping Santa's on his way!_

_Illysa: When I hear Tink's bells ring, I listen all around_

_Peter: The joyful music rings, it's such a happy sound_

_Both: and all the dreams of children that are lost will all be found._

_Illysa: That's all I want_

_Peter: That's all I want_

_Both: When Christmas comes to town_

Illysa's mother just stood there, her mouth agape. Finally she spoke.

"Why, Illysa, you never told me you sang. It's like you transported into a Disney movie!"

Illysa giggled, looked into Peter's eyes and said, "Yes, I suppose I have mother. Merry Christmas, Peter. I'm so glad you could come."

**I am so sorry for this lame chapter but it should get better. I wasn't really inspired, but I hope it gets better. Please review good or bad so I know how you like it and I will try to write a story worth reading. Also please tell me if you liked this chapter or if you thought it was lame... Thank You!**


	2. Gifts

Illysa could hardly believe that Peter had come to her house... for Christmas of all times! He was amazed at all of the decorations, the tree, the presents. He was especially surprised when she had a gift for him.

"For me?" Peter gaped.

"Of course it's for you," Illysa laughed. "See the tag? It says Peter Pan. I don't know anybody else by that name. Do you?"

Peter shook his head, his hands trembling as he took the small package. Illysa got him a gift, for him. His heart warmed at the fact that she liked him enough to give him a present.

Trying to act nonchalant, he failed miserably as he tore open the wrapping and looked in astonishment at what was inside the box...

"Illysa," he gasped. For once Peter was speechless. Inside the box was a flute made of real silver. Engraved in one of the pipes were the words, "For Peter, From Illysa, with love 3"

"I-I don't know what to say..." Peter garbled for the right words, but Illysa stopped him with a kiss on the cheek.

"You don't need to say anything," she whispered. "Merry Christmas."

Tink turned red, and crossed her arms, but did little else to protest. She was used to the fact that Peter would like human girls much better than her.

Peter smiled, and took Illysa's hand. Illysa blushed, gently sqeezing the hand of the boy she was slowly learning to love more than anyone in her 13 years of existence. She and Peter blushed, causing her to squeeze even harder.

"OUCH!" Peter yanked his hand away, cringing and shaking his hand vigorously.

"Peter!" Illysa gasped. "What's the matter?!"

"Your... your hand." Peter said hesitantly. "It's burning."

"What? What do you mean, burning?" Illysa was very confused.

Tink made some noise, but Illysa didn't notice. She couldn't understand the fairy anyway.

"No." Peter sounded worried. "No, no, no, no, no... This can't be happening. Not to you. Not now!"

"Peter, what's the matter!" Illysa started to panic. "Just calm down and tell me what is going on."

Peter grabbed her arm, quickly let go, and flew away.

"Peter!"

Peter flew down the staircase to the living room where Mr. and Mrs. Miller were guessing as to what their daughter and her "boy friend" were doing alone upstairs.

Peter tried to make his presence know as soon as he entered the room, but he managed to hear some rather uncomfortable dialogue about kissing and dating before they noticed him.

"Oh, Peter, you haven't been there long, I hope?" Mrs. Miller smiled at the young boy, perhaps a little too fakely. She was still having trouble believing that Peter Pan was an actual person, not just a fairy tale. If she hadn't seen him and her daughter fly, she would have thought perhaps it was a joke that Illysa was trying to play. But her daughter had changed drastically since meeting Peter, so Mrs. Miller was going to give this boy a chance.

"No, ma'am, not too long." Peter shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Um, ma'am, do you think that maybe I could have a kitchen mitt?"

Mrs. Miller looked surprised. "A kitchen mitt? Whatever for?"

"I, uh, that is, we, um..." Peter didn't know how to tell Illysa's mother that her daughter was burning up without getting her involved, so he did what any other child would do to get out of a sticky situation.

He told the truth. Sort of.

"I need to touch something really hot and I thought of a kitchen mitt."

Mrs. Miller laughed. "Well, I suppose that is one thing to use for touching a hot item." Looking at her husband, she whispered, "They're probably using it to slap each other with. Kids."

Snickering, she walked to the kitchen and came back with a kitchen mitt, which Peter gratefully grabbed and flew off to Illysa's room.

Meanwhile, Illysa was staring at her hand, trying to figure out what about it had caused Peter to freak out so much.

"I don't understand, Tink," she said to the fairy. "My hand feels fine." She stroked her cheek with her palm. "It doesn't feel hot at all. I don't understand what Peter was talking about."

Tink tried to explain, but all Illysa heard was bells and chimes, and a little later, a sort of whistle. She assumed that Tink began to get frustrated and throw in some expletives.

Illysa stood up. Maybe Peter was just getting warm. Perhaps if she opened the window a crack, even though there was snow outside, Peter would not be as uncomfortable. She grabbed her curtains to pull them away from the window, when Peter entered the room.

"Illysa, what are- NO!" Peter yelled.

Illysa stopped, still clutching the curtains.

"Peter, what's the matter?"

"Just let go of the curtains. Right now."

Illysa obeyed, but it was too late. Jumping away, she screamed and flew to Peter as she viewed, somewhat confusedly, the damage she had done.


End file.
